Made of Glass
by KRWilson1
Summary: John and Joss come to a cross roads and decisions have to be made, people have to be told, and relationships cemented. This is the last chapter and I loved every minute of writing this fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

Made of Glass

Person Of interest - Fanfic

Carter/Reese

Joss briskly walked into the Westway diner and spotted a booth in the back. She sat down and opened the menu and finally let out a deep cleansing breath. It was her day off and John texted her to meet him there. It wasn't a diner frequented by cops so that was a smart move on his part. Taylor was at his grandmother's house then he would go to his friend's house. So he would be gone all day. This was a rare quiet morning for her.

Her stomach growled loudly over the din of cooks voices and the thud of dropped dishes. She needed to pick something quickly before she ate the table. A whoosh of coolish air tickled her neck, footsteps. Fingers of warmth caressed her back. The menu she held in hands and her complaining stomach faded to the background as her senses attuned to him.

"Eating without me, Detective?"

She'd always fought to keep her reaction to his smile at a minimum, but now with her stomach clenching and the warmth creeping up her cheeks she was losing.

"My stomach was complaining."

John not in his usual dark suit and white shirt this time sat down in front of her. The dove grey color of his t-shirt played beautifully with his blue-grey eyes.

"What do you recommend we eat, John?"

"I like eggs benedict."

"I'll give it a try."

John hailed the waiter and soon they placed their orders.

"You have another number?"

"There are always numbers, Detective. I'll get to it soon."

"So why did you want to meet then? Is Finch doing okay?"

Before he could answer the waitress set down their two cups of steaming coffee down then disappeared wait on other customers. John kept an eye on the comings and goings of the customers. All the while, Joss could feel the scope of his attention on her.

"Bear is keeping him company and protecting him."

All she could do was nod dumbly. John's eyes held her captive, as usual. Like a drowning woman she reached for her coffee.

"Joss!" John's hand intercepted her reach of the coffee cup.

"Yeah, John?"

"Texas…changed things."

He had to bring up Texas. They had to share a hotel room. It would have been no biggee if there'd been two beds. There was only one and she'd hated to make John sleep on the floor. But he had right next to the bed. He'd teased her about her pajamas. She couldn't help but stare at him on the floor, shirtless, and propped up leaning against the bedside drawers with a pillow behind him. His alertness was relentless. They'd been away from the heat of Elias, HR, FBI and the CIA, but he still couldn't afford himself a chance to relax a little.

But now a slight softness replaced the ever-present hard glint in his eyes.

"You once joked about fantasizing about me in back of your car…in handcuffs."

Suddenly drinking her coffee to hide wasn't important to her. He had to see they were a dead end. Slowly, she lowered her coffee cup to the table then closed her eyes. She couldn't risk looking at him."That was before-"

"Me in handcuffs in the back of your car," John shrugged. "Not so bad when I think about it."

The words struck her heart to the core. She shook her head trying to block out what he was saying, but she struggled. Then she felt his fingers under her chin lifting her up.

"John? You-"

"I've been hollow for so long, Joss. You were the first to reach out to me six months ago."

He'd been a mess that night; scruffy and stinking, but his eyes… so compelling even surrounded by dirt, grime and graying hair. At times in her quiet moments she played that scene out in her mind. She'd had no idea that meeting would change her life or open her heart.

John grimaced then took out his ear piece.

"Finch will have a cow."

"I don't want prying ears."

"What about Zoe?"

"What about her?"

"I've heard a few things."

"I won't lie to you, Joss," he continued. "She's candy land; goes down easy and doesn't repeat."

Anger erupted inside her stomach. She pushed her chair back."I don't want to hear this." She swung away from the table. The door of the diner in her sights when she felt his fingers like a vice grip around her arm. She wasn't in pain but she sure couldn't pull her arm away.

"You need to."

His eyes pleading with her. Dammit! He must do this to all women. She looked down at him.

"I don't know how long I have left."

Neither did she. _Lord, Lord._ Reluctantly she slid back into the booth."What Are you trying to say, John?"

"You've changed my life, Joss - you and Taylor. You know, I always wanted a kid."

Unbidden the images came of her, John and Taylor at the table in her apartment eating breakfast talking over one another, laughing and being carefree. With those images the undeniable feeling of regret and loss of a life they could never have poured over her. Her stomach clenched as if a fist imbedded itself right under her rib cage. "Uh-uh, no!"

"Joss?"

"Our lives aren't normal." She looked around at the other diners and the diner itself. With its turquoise cushioned seats, oak wood paneling, and ordinary people going about their ordinary day, there was sanity. She and John in their corner half-booth exuded insanity. So many crazy obstacles stood in their way, and he still hadn't answered her about his other… asset.

"It's our normal,Joss."

"But what about Zoe?"

He turned his attention away from her giving her a chance to assess him. In the army as an interrogator she learned how to appraise a prisoner's body language. The same skills she applied to being a detective. John she knew well, like the flip side of her soul. He wanted her and Taylor. He wanted a family and the realization left her feeling exposed. Her heart beat so hard her body vibrated from the rushed pulsing of blood.

Finally he turned to face her again. "With her I don't work hard and its empty."

"Humph, that's never stopped certain men before."

"A fool broke your heart, Joss. I won't."

"I'm a woman, a soldier, and a cop, not many men can handle all of this."

A slow smile spread across his face. "I can handle just about anything."

She knew that, but she had to make him see they were a disaster waiting to happen.

His smile faded replaced by the hard glint returned in his eyes. "The way you looked at me the night Syzmanski was shot…" He shook his head as if it was painfully difficult for him to remember. "I never want to see that look in your eyes when you look at me again."

"I forgave you."

"I forgave you for getting me shot," he said smoothly.

"So… we're even."

"We're even and a lot more, Joss."

She was losing her battle and needed to regroup fast. Her flimsy boundaries sucked! "I'm your asset, John, just like Fusco."

"You're my equal and other things we need to figure out."

"I have my standards, you know."

"Those famous standards have made me step up in ways I couldn't imagine, Joss."

"Tell me something?"

His blue-gray eyes danced, and his left brow arched. She needed to accept the sad, simple fact that John did things to her. Without knowing it, she reached across the table and met his waiting hands. His calloused fingertips caressed her knuckles. Their warm roughness made her shake like a leaf during a summer rain.

"Anything."

"The bag of guns you gave me that night, was that your way of courting me?"

John shrugged."I was going for subtlety."


	2. Chapter 2

John heard the rushing down the stairs. A good fight was about to begin, but the girl needed to be protected first. He clutched her shoulder prompting her to look at him. He pointed behind him at the closet door of the living room.

"Go to that closet, close the door behind you, and crouch down."

Molly's dark eyes stretched as she looked from him to his smoking gun. She nodded then ran to the closet.

John spun on his heel and swung. The perp ducked, jabbed.

John blocked followed with an uppercut. The kidnapper's jaw cracked beneath the handle of John's block. John could not ignore the ripple of satisfaction that coursed through his veins.

The perp swung at him. His wide fist ready to connect to John's nose. With his left fist, John punched his gut then jabbed three-punched his stomach. The perp lurched forward, clutched his stomach, and then dropped to the floor like a rag doll.

Then John sensed another one coming at him at ten o'clock. Before he could reach for his gun, two shots rang out from behind him. Startled he stared at Joss marching forward with her gun aimed straight ahead. He turned to watch the last slump to the floor.

John couldn't take his eyes off Joss as he followed her progression towards him like a wingless Nike ready to reward him with victory. Her face held an amused expression as usual. How many times had she come in the knick of time he'd lost count, but he was always grateful when she'd shown up.

"You rang?"

"Thank you."

Joss simply smiled and nodded. He'd gotten used to her body language and she to his he was certain. Together they had a shared language. Nothing much was directly spoken but the nods and looks and even the occasional chewing of the lips said volumes between them. He didn't have that kind of repoire with anyone else but his Detective. _His Detective_. A lot had changed since their talk three days ago, and they still had unfinished business to discuss if they could have a moments peace.

"So whatchugot?"

"Sex traffickers loosely tied to Elias. They tried to kidnap a little girl named Molly."

With a canary smile on her face, Joss circled the bleeding pile of shit on the floor. "Elias is not going to like this," she sing-songed.

"Be careful, Joss. Elias has reach even from a jail cell."

"I have my guardian angel, remember."

So she knew he'd been watching over her?

He stepped over the moaning, incapacitated perp as Joss handcuffed the knee-capped perp and began reading him his Miranda Rights.

John didn't know he'd held his breath. He let it out slowly feeling the calm wash over him. Another number saved, and she was still hiding in the closet.

"Molly. You can come out now," he called out.

The cherry closet door slowly screeched open and Molly's little head peepped out.

"Its okay Molly."

The little girl ran to him and impulsively he picked her up and hugged her. "Thank you, thank you." Her small frame shook in his arms as she desperately clung to him.

"Everything is going to be all right now."

Bile threatened to clog his throat at what might have happened if he hadn't saved her from those sex traffickers. "You're going to live your life now, be a kid again." He hoped with therapy and a lot of love and compassion from her aunt, Molly would get there. He would have Finch see to it. She pulled away and nodded at him. Tears poured down her face.

"Molly, this is Detective Carter. She's going to take you to the station so you can be with your aunt."

Molly vehemently shook her head. Her long black braid whipping around. Fear made her dark eyes bulge. "No, no I want to stay with you."

"I can't be here now, Molly, but Detective Carter is my friend. She will look after you."

Molly looked from him to Carter.

"John I have to call this in."

And she did just that.

Then he heard Finch's restrained but warning tone in his ear, "Mr. Reese, you have five minutes before the police arrive."

"I know." John met Joss's pleading eyes as she flipped-closed the cell phone off.

"John you have to go," she whispered.

I feel safe with you," Molly pleaded.

"Honey, I know you do, but John has to leave to help someone else. I won't let anyone take you, okay?"

John handed Molly over to Carter.

"Uhh, you are a big girl. You know I have a son."

"You do?"

"That's right. His name is Taylor."

Joss's dark, almond shaped eyes pleaded with him. He could hear it, too. "Sirens."

With reluctance he began to move away, and then Joss touched his arm. He could feel her heat through his black leather jacket. "I'll talk with you later."

Unable to help himself he cupped her left cheek. "I'll see you tonight."

John ran down the carpeted wooden stairs to the first floor of the brownstone.

"Mr. Reese, there is a garden door leading from the basement apartment."

"No time, Finch."

"How will you get away?"

"Don't I always, Finch?"

"I can recall a time when your demise and immediate capture seemed imminent, Mr. Reese."

"Today is a new day, Finch."

—

Later that night, grateful that her emotionally wrought day was over, Joss opened the door to her …darkened apartment?

Fear pressed her chest in. Her knees grew weak. "Taylor" Where was that boy? She groped for the light switch, flipped it up then gasped when she saw John standing by her window pulling a slat of her wood blind down.

"Joss, I dropped him off at your mother's."

Holding not he walls or support she let out a deep shuddered breath. Carter and John would be the death of her yet. Joss scanned the living room and involuntarily sniffed the air. Lime juice and shrimp hit her all at once making her stomach growl. _Pad Thai?_ John was in her apartment for the third time. Only now it was because they needed to …talk. She didn't know how she would pull that off being that he was wearing a dark blue silk shirt that played off his beautiful eyes. Wings of dark hair combed over his forehead gave him a relaxed look. She itched to play with the wings of that made her want to play with, which wok e her up but he didn't call and neither did Taylor.

"You dropped Taylor off at his grandmother's?"

"After we went food shopping. You like Pad Thai, right?"

That was serious boundary crossing or did it matter anymore? John had saved her son's life. She'd saved John's and he her's on numerous occasions. Maybe she could let it slide. At least he took him to her mother's which is where she would have sent him anyway. And how did he know about her mother? And how did that conversation with Taylor even begin?

"I love Pad Thai."

Suddenly he turned to his left and cupped her cheek. "Get comfortable, and call Taylor while I finish cooking."

Stupefied she walked to her bedroom with purse in hand to do just that. As she pulled off her pant she dialed her mother's number.

"Hello, Mom."

"Josselyn. How is your date?"

"Uh my date?"

Oh God, did she have to explain dating John, now? She couldn't explain him herself. She walked into her bathroom doorway, groped for the switch and the room was illuminated.

"Yes, dear that is what you are on, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mom. Would you put Taylor on the phone please."

"Umhum, Taylor its your mother."

She heard the shuffling from the other end.

"Mom your on a date with Badass!"

Her baby was growing up? Taylor didn't care that she was on a date with Bada- John! When did his happen and why didn't she pick up on it?

"Mom?"

She bent over and unhooked her bra, and then opened the glass shower door."Um, yeah his name is Jo- Nevermind. Did you do your homework, young man?"

"Yeah, mom I did a long time ago. Grandma and I are watching The Count of Monte Cristo now. I gotta get back."

"Yes, let's not keep your grandmother waiting." She turned on the faucet. In seconds, water rushed out of the handheld shower head. "And Taylor?"

"Yeah mom?"

"Thank you, and next time call me."

Joss clicked the "End" button on her phone, pulled off the rest of her clothes and laid them on the back of a chair.

Anticipation bubbled in her stomach as she showered. John was cooking in her kitchen. John! Man-pretty, badassed John! And she didn't have anything nice to wear. _Damn! _After exiting the shower, she rifled through her closet and found… nothing sexy. Did she even remember what the word meant anymore? It had been long time since she'd been on a date. And it had been a very long time since any man had excited her like this.

She closed the closet door and opened her dresser drawers. She had nothing except a grey form-fitting sweat pants and hoodie. Sighing, she pulled both pieces on, ran a brush through her thick hair, and then pulled her tresses up into a ponytail. Looking into her floor length mirror she ruefully smiled. He'd seen her in her cow and moon pajamas, so her sweats would be an improvement.

She squared her shoulders, bravely padded out into her living room and through to her kitchen, and stood in the arched entryway.

John towered over the stove stirring the Pad Thai. He was doing something incredibly human. She had to admit she never thought of John doing anything other than kneecapping and tossing around thugs. This was another revelation and an oddly sweet one. Unfortunately, she couldn't not ignore the image her mind conjured up of John standing over a stove cooking for Jessica. They had a lot to talk about.

"You moaned," he said, pulling her back to the here and now.

"I did?"

"What's wrong?"

"Can't wait to eat, it smells so good."

Joss padded over to John joining him at the stove. John's knowing and assessing gaze both warmed her and made her want to run and hide. "Five more minutes. How is Taylor?"

"He's watching a movie with his grandmother."

John graced her again with a dazzling smile. It wasn't his usual sneer. It was a deep from the gut smile. It made his being appear younger.

"He's a good kid. You did an amazing job, Joss."

"Thank you, and you made an impression on Molly."

"Her aunt picked her up. They're moving to New Jersey," he simply stated.

"How did you- Nevermind." Had he been eavesdropping? Or had Finch? Why ask why? When would they tell her how they got their information? And when would she be able to block out the questions for one night? She sighed clearing out her head and heart. "Yeah, she's lucky to have someone watch over her after her mother was killed."

"Does this weird you out, Joss?"

"I like it."

"Get used to it," he said, then winked.

She involuntarily inhaled the scents surrounding her. Lime, peppers, shrimp and John hung in the air. It was a heady mix that pulled her forward to him. Not caring if her actions would interrupt the progress of dinner she hugged his from behind. She pressed the side of her face to the middle of his back right underneath his shoulder blades. That was as far as her head could reach. He was so ridiculously tall. She relished the play of his muscles. He's slim yet strong and agile. An interesting mix of strength and agility.

"Joss," he warned. His deliciously, low voice rumbled beneath her cheekbones, warming her insides and making her nipples pebble.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Not hungry, Detective?"

Looking up she angled her body. "That's a loaded question."

John turned around in her arms as he turned off the stove. His long arms encircled her and she felt for the first time in years safe.

"Do you realize _this_ is the first time we've held each other, John?"

All of her senses fired at once as he lowered his head. Warm, minty breath brushed her eyelashes. His nose rubbed her cheekbone and his lips pressed against hers. His lips ware warm, smooth and searching. It was that magnet, the pull she'd felt the first time she met him in the station. Suddenly he broke the kiss leaving her reeling.

"It won't be the last," he said, as he hungrily attacked her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Vaguely, Joss became aware of them walking backwards until the side of her bed butted against the back of her calves. This was it. This is what she'd dreamt about and never dared admitted to herself. She wanted him. From the moment he'd asked her to trust him in New Rochelle. She knew she had and always would.

John rained kisses down her neck making her cheeks tingle, and abruptly stopped. Breathless she looked up at him. In the dim light his blue eyes glittered with intensity. Did he want to stop? Was she awful at this? Okay she was out of practice, but-

"Touch me, Joss."

She didn't know she'd held her breath. Relieved she exhaled. With her heart hammering in her chest, she pulled his crisp white shirt out of his pants. Starting at the last button she slowly revealed his t-shirt then smiled.

"You were expecting a bullet proof vest, weren't you?" he said low and slow.

"Something like that."

"All I want to see is that smile and those dimples," he said, as he tugged off his white shirt.

His arms were nicely muscled, and dotted with ancient scars here and there. A grim reminder of the price he has paid for his country and the ordinary people he helped.

Under his gaze pleasurable tingles covered her front. It inspired boldness and a hunger she didn't know she could muster up again. Slowly, she raised his t-shirt. Her palms grazed his taut nipples. He helped her pulling the t-shirt off as well. It left his hair boyishly ruffled.

"I love that?"

"What?"

"Your hair when its all messy," she mused, as she felt his hands on the waistband of her leggings and her panty. Without ceremony, he tugged down. His palms grazed her hips making her flinch and hitch her breath. The clothing pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of them and kicked them away.

"Lay down, Josselyn," his tone warned. "I want to taste all of you."

Barely able to contain her excitement, Joss did as she was told. Her bed cover cool beneath her hips and legs quickly warmed as she felt his hands on her sweat hood. The low growl of her zipper coming down heightened her excitement. His warm breath tickled her stomach. And joyously, impossibly his hands covered her bra then tugged freeing one breast. His mouth engulfed her nipple. His tongue was magical and urgent as it slid around her engorged nib. His mouth sucked her hard at first then soft as if he remembered she was there. Her inner muscles clenched making her hips buck.

"Oh, John."

"You're beautiful." She heard him say from some far off place.

Finally, he let go staring at her with predatory eyes as he slid down and captured her thighs and paled them on his shoulders.

Alarm bells sounded in her head. She wasn't ready for that was she? It had been years since a man had seen that part of her. And her trepidation must have shown on her face for John stilled, and instead rained kisses up her inner thigh.

"Joss?" He said looking at her as he lazily ran his tongue down the inside of her thigh. "We don't have to."

Was he kidding her? Him licking and kissing her thigh tickled her so deeply that she vacillated between telling him to keep going and to stop. This wasn't fair!

"God, John," she moaned.

His head dipped down enabling the wings of his hair to lightly stroke her the met sensitive part of her. She sucked in her breath against the rich sensations flooding her. He was baiting her, and she never, ever failed to take the bait. "Go ahead," she said, annoyed that she sounded breathless.

John lowered his head. His breath danced over her sensitive bud.

"Make it good, okay?"

She sensed rather than saw his smile.

"Let go for me, Joss."

Before she could answer him, he separated her folds and then slowly licked her once, twice then tongue and nose where everywhere at once. They caressed places she'd forgotten existed. She moaned, writhed feeling her pleasure build exponentially until she burst. She was the consistency of jelly. John continued to lick and suck her juices. She was about to go over the edge when suddenly,like a predatory wolf, he climbed up, held her firmly by the hips, and surged forward. The sudden friction and contact made them both cry out. Without breaking stride, John held a lazy smile while he set their rhythm.

John blinked his eyes once, twice then fully focused on the fluff of hair lying across his face. Slowly, he became aware of the rest of Joss's warmth along his side body. Moonlight danced across her shoulder, contoured her cheekbone. Her breath slid across his rid nipple. Her right arm encircled his waist. After they'd made love he'd scooted her over to lay on his side. She was tiny, his Josselyn, and he didn't want to crush her. And his Josselyn still snored.

Instead of feeling tired he felt as if he'd hiked up Kilimanjaro twice in day.

Unbidden the night's events came back to him in a flood of sensuous images. That depleted part of him stirred and hardened. There was truly no turning back for either of them. They'd both dove into the deep end of the pool, and that fact intensely terrified him.

With stealth, he extricated himself from her, found his clothes, and dressed. Quietly, he left Joss's apartment. John jogged down the terra-cotta steps. Two months ago, at this time of the night or morning, it used to be hot enough to walk in swimming trunks. Now the air was warmish. Fall was on its way.

The East Village hopped. Taxis sped by in constant yellow blurs. Impatient car drivers honked their horns. Late nighters staggered to wherever they were going. People lived out their normal lives under the watchful eye of the Machine. Bread Bakeries worked behind floor to ceiling glass windows. The scent of the dough floated above him from exterior vents. He had no particular destination in mind. He walked to clear his head and to slow down his racing heart.

After wandering in a straight path, John found himself on the corner of Second and Fifth at the Moonstruck Diner. He'd met Joss there one morning to pick up a file. He'd wanted to get the file and leave. He ended up staying for breakfast. She'd half-teased half-reprimanded his interrogation methods. He'd sat dumbfounded by her. She challenged him and like a lovesick puppy he couldn't keep away. He wanted more of it.

John walked up the short ramp and opened the door. The diner was open twenty-four hours on weekends. Perfect for his midnight and later hauntings. He slid into a blue booth where he could inconspicuously watch the door. A tall burly man sat to his three o'clock. As was his habit from the years spent in the Special Forces and the C.I.A. with Stanton, he quickly sized him up. He was stocky and squat. He didn't appear to be as massive as the Aryan idiot, but close enough. He'd learnt since then how to take down opponents with immense size and girth. But this man with sagging jowls and scraggly five o'clock shadow, wasn't a potential attacker. He seemed a lonely soul drowning his sorrows in sauerkraut and beer.

The weary looking waitress clad in a graphic white t-shirt that said "Fuck you, you fucking fuck!" and dark jeans appeared. "What would you like, honey?"

"Eggs, bacon, apple pie, and a big cup of coffee."

"Sure you're hungry?" She tapped her order pad with the tip of her pen.

"What?"

The waitress shrugged. "You look pretty sated to me," she said, with a knowing smirk.

"That coffee would be good right about now."

"Coming right up."

He sat back against the cushions and sighed. He could still smell her scent: Joss and Jasmine. It wafted around him seeped into his pores. It was a comforting scent much like the woman herself. She was permanently affixed to his thoughts, and the air he breathed. It warred with his need to stay apart from the world. He had to admit since the day he'd run around Manhattan protecting her from Elias and HR he was under her spell. He had no idea what it was about her that made him go to great lengths like that. He didn't care to examine his strong feelings for Joss then. He didn't care to now, for he would always have her back even if she denied him her heart. She hadn't denied him anything earlier.

"And here is your coffee, and I'll be back with your food," the waitress said, interrupting his thoughts. She zipped away, leaving him alone to continue his thoughts.

John pulled the cup toward him. Heat touched his knuckle. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee called to him. He reached out with his left, index fingertip and traced the blue oval of the diner's logo on the cup. He then took a sip of his coffee.

After they'd made love they stared at each other, like idiots. Heat radiated from her body and her heart hammered beneath his chest. Even in the moonlight he'd sensed her blushing. That had been enough to send him over the edge. He'd ached to be inside her again, but Joss had surprised him. She held him and kissed him-igniting the passion again. She'd trailed kisses down his torso to the bullet wounds courtesy of Snow's Sniper. He knew where she was headed. He'd nearly stopped her, but when her warm, full lips wrapped around him he'd lied back and lost himself in the sensations. And when his hands gripped the back of her head, and his hips bucked up, she took all of him. His pain, anger, guilt, and distrust she'd consumed until he'd been drained. Or so he'd thought. The minute she'd lifted her head, he seized her mouth and tasted himself on her tongue. His erection raged to life once more. The sheets had tangled around their ankles. The air had hung heavy with the scent of their previous lovemaking. He'd grabbed her thighs and lowered her onto his erection.

In the diner, once again he hardened between his legs. He shifted on the seat, sipped his coffee, and zeroed in on his four strips of greasy bacon.

As the salty, meatiness of the bacon rolled around in his mouth, terror gripped him. Not once did he think about Jessica, nor the danger he'd put Joss and Taylor in. They were becoming a family slowly but surely.

He wanted Joss. He wanted her more than he wanted his life, but she deserved better. So did Taylor. He wouldn't live if anything happened to them. The bacon tasted like cardboard. Disgusted, John pried out a twenty from his pocket, and dropped it on the table.


	4. Chapter 4

Joss inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly as she counted to ten.

_Was he out of his mind?_

She paced the floor. Her sneakers squeaked as she angrily pivoted around in her kitchen.

John could make her spit at times. He could be frustrating, but she never, ever imagined he would do this.

_What the hell? Was I awful? Not giving enough? Out of rhythm? Okay, Jocelyn. Get on with your day. You are fine everything is fine._ He won't get to her. She had to become immune. Men came and went but her sanity was precious. If John wanted to play games he bedded the wrong woman.

Stretching her legs and arms, Joss quickly warmed up. She pushed her earbuds in, slipped her iPod into the arm wrap, and then headed out of her apartment.

She jogged, and jogged, vaguely aware of the diners and various clothing stores she'd passed until she stopped in Washington Square Park. Vaguely she was aware of slowly walking to the cement bench where John had directed her to the girl who'd been presumed dead so many months ago. She was tiny and haggard. John's suit jacket had been draped around her shoulders. She'd been in hot pursuit of him back then. She'd always told herself that it was because she wanted him off the streets before he got himself killed, but that wasn't the only reason. He'd been a mystery to her back then. Hell, he still is. When someone takes off after having mid-blowing sex you have to wonder. She mentally shook herself. Why on earth was she taking up valuable head space thinking about him?

"Can I help you, miss?"

"Um, excuse me?" She _was_ staring at the bench and there was a man sitting on it. My God what was wrong with her? Heat crept up from her neck to her cheeks. And there was man sitting there and of course he probably thought she was crazy.

"You are staring awfully hard. I thought I might've looked good enough to take home," he said flashing his gold teeth.

_I have enough problems, cool breeze._ "Uh, huh I gotta go."

She jogged away but not far enough to avoid hearing him.

"Hey, can I have your number?" he asked from behind her.

Joss flipped around jogging in place. "NO!"

Feeling her thigh muscles complain, she exited the Park. It wasn't from the jogging. It was her reminder of John and what they'd shared. She stopped jogging and then bent over resting her hands on her knees. Great puffs of air left her lungs. She exhaled deeply slowing down her racing heart. They'd shared so much and he just stomped on it like stomping on a bug.

But she knew, she felt in her core that he deeply cared for her. It had been in his eyes so many times when they would talk. She stood up placing her hands on her hips. She had to walk slow or her thighs would implode and other things. Sex after an embarrassingly long hiatus aaas tough on the body but good for the soul. Gradually the ache turned into a burn. She had work tomorrow. If she has to take down a perp(a foregone conclusion)it will hurt. More importantly Taylor would notice. She moaned to herself. The last thing she wanted was to have to avoid the one hundred one questions from a teenaged boy. Any sign of discomfort would make him worry. Being a cop's kid was tough.

Waiting at the corner she watched the red hand light at the corner change. Surrounded by other pedestrians she walked across the street. As she stepped on the side walk something pushed her from behind propelling her to the pavement. "What the-"

Catching herself she spun around and noticed the brown paws. "Bear!"

And then she recognized the professionally shined black shoes, creased pinstripe pants, coordinating vest and jacket.

Finch's chest rose and fell. His left brow arched. "Boundaries Bear," he warned.

Joss fought to control her amusement. Finch could be painfully polite and glacial but to see him with a dog? It was priceless.

"My apologies, Detective," he said his eyes darting around.

"Joss, please - it's my day off."

People continued walking around them going on about their midmorning and Finch looked highly uncomfortable. The dog whined. Concern flooded her system for the short, dapper man. Wasn't it too soon for him to be out among people? "How are you doing?"

A faint smile crept over Finch's features. His chest rose and fell as if he was calming himself down.

"I'm…better, Detective. I have my guardian angel with me. Would you like to have lunch?"

She motioned to him to walk with her away form the curb. "You need help on a new case?" As if she wanted to see John, but her need for helping people outweighed her need to punch that man really hard in the face.

"No, its manageable for one to handle."

"Okay, so…?"

"Just to talk with a colleague."

"I don't think you've ever asked me for lunch before to just talk."

Finch's eyes drilled into someone over her shoulder. She turned around and spotted the woman talking on mobile a phone. That was nothing, but this woman had long chestnut brown hair and youngish. The change in Finch's demeanor was palpable. One minute he was pleasant and the next fear and anger beat off him. It was enough to put her on edge.

The woman, unaware she had two people interested in her whereabouts, walked blithely passed them immersed in her conversation with whomever was on the other end of the mobile. Not thinking about his pride, Joss reached out and covered Finch's hand.

She watched Finch's posture visibly relax. His eyes softened, and she could have she sworn she felt his sigh of relief. "It's okay, Finch."

Finch pulled off his glasses and produced a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped one lens and then the other. "Shall we eat, Detective?"

They stopped at a food truck near Cooper Union. Finch balked at the idea of ordering food from a truck, but she convinced him and soon they were walking, talking and eating.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

Finch turned his body around to face her.

"John loves you."

What! The three words slapped her hard upside her head. It was her turn to face him. Her mouth worked but nothing came out. She was completely gobsmacked.

She popped up and paced in a circle. Did he really love her? She loved him - bone deep loved him. It was crazy to even admit it to herself. She probably knew when he popped into her car unannounced and she'd chided him for taking a walk fifty miles from the City. Oh the blush she'd had to hold back at that moment. And why was she reminiscing fondly as if he didn't leave after they had sex.

"I understand how you must feel, Detective."

Okay? She stopped pacing. This she wanted to hear. "A-about what?"

"John leaving this morning without a word or note."

"Uh- were you listening in?"

Finch's eyes widened as if he pissed himself. She had to stifle the laughter threatening to explode out of her. This was so absurd!

"From what I'd heard the date went well."

"Unbelievable! I should arrest you for eavesdropping."

"John loves you, Detective," Finch repeated, with a cheshire grin on his face.

"Then why did he leave? Was it Jessica? Did he feel guilty for moving on?" She looked up at the trees and sky over head. Students and well-dressed passed them by. "I can't believe I'm talking to you about this."

"The human heart is tricky to decipher, Detective…"

She inhaled and then slowly exhaled and pinned Finch with her gaze. He was full of nuance this little man and she had to pay attention. "I'm listening."

"Fear can make one do inexcusable things in the name of love. Believe me I know."

Of course he would know. And she should have figured that out a long time ago. He wasn't an island; he was a man in hiding living vicariously through others. He and John are the perfect match of loneliness. But was John lonely because he missed Jessica and was afraid to move on?

Bear looking sad-eyed walked up to her and placed his head on her left knee. Impulsively, she reached out and rubbed his head. His brownish black coat was soft between her fingers.

"I can't compete with a ghost, Finch. No one can."

"John has exorcised that loss and guilt," he said as he looked down the long sidewalk. "Its fear of losing one that he holds dear, now."

"You and John have a bond and language that I can never understand," he continued. "It works on an intrinsic level that is deep, yet you keep missing each other." He shrugged his elegantly clad shoulders. "I'm on the outside looking in, so it affords me a different view. Think about it. We'd better be off. Bear has a date with the tub."

She watched Finch erect himself. Bear, then stood on all fours looking up at Finch with adoration. If she had a camera she'd take a picture. For a split second the feeling of loss came over her. Finch would disappear in a minute or two and she'd see him again on the next assignment, maybe. How did that dapper man become such an important part of her life so soon? "Do you need company?"

He smiled appreciatively a bonus. "No, thank you, Detective. I can manage from here and look we're near your home."

Really? She recognized the street she and Taylor walked a trillion times. _We walked in a circle?_ "Okay, see you on the next assignment."

He smiled, leaned down, and then pressed a weighted folded paper into the palm of her hand.

"Always a pleasure, Josselyn. Come on Bear." Joss dragged her eyes away from the brave soul and his dog to the weighted folded paper in her palm. Another mystery to solve and Sunday wasn't over yet, she thought while shaking her head.

John breezed into the library. Shades were drawn blocking out the night and the curious. Bear always ever alert popped his head up from his bed then bounded over to his master. Smiling, John bent down and rubbed the faithful dog behind each ear. Immediately, the guilt piled on, first Joss and now Bear. He needed to spend time with his dog. His pup years were quickly dissolving. Joss? He didn't know what to do or say to her. Nothing would make up for him being a coward.

"How is our number, John?" Finch asked as he rolled his chair forward. He leaned back holding a cup of noodles in his hand.

It was eight forty and Finch was eating noodles. The little man ate like a bird when he didn't have too. John, gingerly eased out of his black leather jacket. "Should be on his way to Belize to live a quiet, uneventful life. Any new numbers?"

"None today," Finch said as he looked him over. "I'll take care of that scar."

"It's just a scratch, Harold."

Finch stood, limped two steps forward. "I don't want blood all over my keyboard. Sit!"

Bear whined and lifted his head.

"Not you Bear," Finch said. Bear lowered his head and continued to lounge on his bed.

"Should I whine, too?"

Finch gave him a withering look causing John to smirk. Finch was frosty but underneath the facade was a caring soul and a good friend.

John obeyed and plopped down onto Finch's chair in front of the computer. Four mini windows were up and one of the images displayed on the screen was of Joss at her desk at the Eighth Precinct. It had been exactly thirty hours and twenty-four minutes since he'd left her. Seeing her again was a like a punch in the gut more powerful than what the latest number's threat meted out to him only four hours earlier. She looked upset and distracted. Lionel appeared on the side of her desk.

Lionel's lips moved, his whole body moved when he talked. Joss closed a folder in her hand and held it. A smile lit up her face displaying his favorite feature: chocolate brown dimples.

John's shoulders ached and the skin under his left eyes seared with burning pain. Somehow watching Joss drop a manilla folder on top of a nine inch stack of folders comforted him. His pain that radiated from head to toe quickly morphed into a dull ache.

He continued to watch her as she stood up from her desk, yawned, and then stretched.

"All you have to do is apologize to her, John," Finch said, holding Isopropyl alcohol in one hand a cotton ball in the other.

"Words aren't my forte, but give me a perp an I'll do wonders."

"She might give you a second chance, John."

John sensed the loaded cotton ball heading towards him. He steeled himself for the sting.

"She might knee cap me… and I'll deserve it." At that Finch dabbed the bruise under his left eye. John rode out the pain keeping an eye on Joss as he exhaled.

She walked around her desk. Her hair swung in a ponytail, and her black pant suit hugged her curves. She grabbed her huge bag… of guns, waved at Lionel and disappeared from the view of the camera on Fusco's desk.

"That should do it," Finch dabbed again.

A shot of pain surrounded his orbital bone. "I think its clean now."

Finch shrugged and then narrowed his big blue eyes at John. John leaned back. A lecture was on the horizon.

"Yes, Finch."

"You look awful. Go home and get some rest."

John wearily stood feeling the dread wash over him at having to figure out what to do with his night. "Not in the mood for a beer?"

"Go! The night is still young!"

No new numbers meant no new numbers, he hoped at least for the night. Finch had tricked him once before and it pissed him off so much that he took out a U.S. Marshall's office. It had forced him to deal with his betrayal. Was history repeating itself?

"I've sent a surprise to your apartment. Hope you'll like it."

"Thank you, Finch. See you tomorrow."

John exited the library and located his parked motorcycle. Grimacing, he slowly swung his leg over positioning himself on the seat, and reached forward for his helmet.

After riding aimlessly he settled on a bar. He walked into the moody booze joint. The murmur was low except for a small crowd that huddled around the dart board. They were loud and exuberant, making a small smile alight his face.

"John?"

The familiar tone of her voice made his body stir. He looked to his side to see the vision in red. "Hello, Zoe.

"Taking a break from rescuing damsels in distress?"

"Blackmailing a client?"

Zoe's sultry laugh rang out.

John simply smiled. He schooled himself for her usual ribbing. Zoe is fun, smart, on-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of woman. He had to admit that she did things to him. It was so damned easy with her. She knows how to protect herself, and she's resourceful, but part of him knew that she was in it for herself.

"May I?"

"I never refuse a beautiful lady."

"Thank you." She expertly swung her slim hips to the side and sat down in the chair at his table. "I've been thinking about our last time together, John."

"Really?" He'd hadn't thought about it. Funny it was only when feeling cornered like right now.

She tossed her wavy, ash blond hair over her shoulder. "Why waste time here? Let's go have some real fun."

-In her bed. It was an easy, pleasurable place to be, but that last time with Zoe he'd been… distracted. He was the first to stand. In three steps he was behind her chair holding it back as she stood up. She took his hand and he led her out of the bar. Once they were on the sidewalk she turned to him.

She lifted her deer thick eyelashes and stared him in the eye. She had that soft look he'd seen on Jessica and… Joss, but there was something behind it - cunning perhaps? What was she up to? She rested her hand on his thigh two inches from his crotch. "I-I think I'm falling in love with you."

What? How? He only sees her when he and Finch need an extra hand. And there was the time he and Zoe slept together. There was chemistry, loads of chemistry. She left him wanting more sex, but never wanting more of anything else. Only one person could do that for him, so why was he here?

"Just kidding," she said, smirking. "You should have seen your face."

He looked away gathering his composure. Joss teed him often, but it was laced with kindness and caring. Zoe's teasing left him irritated. "I should find that funny, Zoe?"

She flinched as if he'd slapped her, and then she retreated back. "John-"

"I can't _play_ house with you, Zoe."

He stalked towards his motorcycle-

"John? I was joke-."

He ignored her as he unhooked his helmet.

"I need something more than this. He revved the engine.

"And you'll get that from the Detective?"

"How did you find out about her?"

Zoe's hazel brown eyes widened with trepidation. "The way I find out about most obstacles, John. She's a goody-two-shoes cop and a single mother - all the things I know you don't want. That woman will tie you down."

Painfully, John swung his leg over the seat of his motorcycle, secured his helmet on his head, and then revved up his bike.

"Good bye, Zoe."


	5. Chapter 5

John sensed someone was in his apartment. Further proof came when he spotted a shadow move past the shaft of light in the space of the door jam. This was a first. He didn't think anyone could breech Finch's acute security precautions. Or Did heh get sloppy? Love made one sloppy. Even with that thought He felt an impending sadness. Love was all wasn't it?

Was it Snow or someone else?

He checked the hallway. All was quiet on his floor. Most of his neighbors stayed out till all hours secure in the knowledge that they would get home to their sanctum. What was it like to feel safe? Feel secure in your home? Would he ever feel that? Adrenaline rushed thorough him as he reached behind his back and slipped the Glock out of his waistband. His finger on the safety. With stealth he unlocked the door, eased it open, and pointed his gun…at Joss?

"John!"

"Joss."

Her hands were up in the air. Fear stretched her eyes.

"A little birdy dropped your key in my lap."

He realized he still had the gun pointed at her. "You shouldn't be here." He lowered his gun and held it down at his side.

"Yeah? Thank you for giving me my answer."

She moved past him… as Jessica had in the airport. He had a choice then and took a different road. What road would he take now? And did he have a right to take the road never traveled?

Joss wasn't waiting to find out. She moved faster than fast towards the door. He couldn't blame her. As emotionally stunted as he was he knew leaving her without saying a word, a note, nothing after they'd…made love was the worst mistake of his life.

She reached down for her shoes. Her black curtain of hair obscured her face as she bent over. Her foot slipped inside one shoe. Joss has a high sense of self. She isn't the clingy type. She has a life and she'll lead it without him and with someone else. Maybe he'd see her when helping a number but that would be it.

He was damn near gut punched as he witnessed in slow motion the life he wanted slipping away from him.

She pushed her left foot in the other shoe.

No breaking into her apartment again for quiet talks, and no…watching Taylor grow up.

She shrugged into her jacket, flipped her hair out of the collar.

She stepped to the side. Her scent, jasmine backhanded him. Her high heeled clad shoes made clop noises on the hardwood floor as she headed for the door.

_Say it you ass! Just say it!_ "I didn't mean that!"

Her head bowed, Joss stood in front of the door. She looked over her shoulder. "What do you want, John?"

The mental anguish threatened to drown him. Every muscle in his body tightened. Joss had no idea what it cost him to leave, and what it's costing him now to yearn for her when she's only seven feet away from him. "I need you… alive!"

She shook her head. No? Was she trying to kill him?

"What-do-you-want-John?"

"I-I want you more than I want my life."

She spun round, tears glistened her eyes as she stalked her way to him. "Then why did you disappear?"

"I needed to think-

-Why haven't you called me to talk?"

"I know it was stupid. I-"

-or to help with cases?"

"Joss, you aren't listening."

"Oh, I hear you loud and clear. You-

"I'm afraid of something happening to you."

She had to see, had to know his desperation. He clutched her arms and forced her gently to look him in the eye. "Look at my life, Joss!" He searched her big doe eyes. "I don't know if I'll see tomorrow or next week."

"Look at my job, John! I deal with death everyday!"

"You won't make this easy for me will you, honey?"

"Heh! I'm not going to, John!" She hugged herself as if she were protecting herself. "It been slog time since I'd been with a man and you jus tup and left!"

_Dammit! I'm sorry, Joss._ He needed distance from her. In two steps he stood in front of one of the long windows. Perfect place for a wanted man but he needed to think clearly. Standing near her made him want to be reckless. "If I stay away from you you'll be safer.

"Without talking to me?"

He closed his eyes willing her to keep her distance but of course she stood behind him. Her heat searing his back.

"You can't make that decision for me, John. I'm a grown woman, I think and do for myself."

He took a deep breath and turned around stared down at her. "What about Taylor?"

She shook her head as if she were wrestling with what he was saying. Joss spun away from him but he could tell from the way her shoulders shook that she heard him. He never should have gone to her apartment and made love to her. He should have kept his distance! And because of his need to be with her he caused her even more pain. All he ever did was cause pain.

"Look at me." When she wouldn't comply he gently turned her around. "Look at me! If anything happened to Taylor I'd never forgive myself and neither would you. He's such a good kid. He deserves a chance to live a normal life."

"So what do we do then, love from a distance? You once told me I wouldn't be alone. What the hell happened?"

"I realized my life is made of glass and if I continue being with you so will yours."

"Damn you!" she hollered, as she broke free of his grip and marched toward the front door.

"Don't go yet! Please?"

"I can't give you more than I've given, John."

"Stay with me this one last time."

It was an after glow of sorts for them: Joss watched the play of encroaching sunlight slowly rise on the brick walls. John held her so close that she could time his heart beats to her own. His long leg wrapped around her pushing her lower half into him. His shaft thumped to life against her hip. His free hand held her close to his chest. She felt every ab muscle John had. John desperately held onto her. She was his lifeline they were about to cut.

There was that damned stinging in her eyes again. _God why now?_ Joss slowly pushed out of his embrace. John let her go, she was grateful for that. She crouched down and scooped up her clothes. As she dressed she felt John's eyes on her. While she dared not look at him. Her control was thinned out, but as she pulled on her pant one leg at a time, she felt stronger.

Or was it just forced bravado?

They were doing this for Taylor. Her boy that they loved, but it was damned hard. Her heart would always be with John. That was the way it is.

John forced himself to stare straight ahead, but it was tough. She was leaving again. All he wanted now was a bottle of Jack Daniel's to forget how his heart was tearing in two. One bottle would end his suffering. As if he could ever do that, his mind berated. She made him a better man. Now he'd be a better lonely man.

_Your choice, Johnny boy._

What else could he do? Taylor is all that mattered now. Selfishness was not an option.

Every decision he'd ever made led him to this point. Oh the things his older self would have told his younger self ten years ago.

This is what Finch felt every day without Grace. How does he do it? How was he going to live through this every day? From the corner of his eye he watched Joss push her feet into her shoes again. He forced a slow paralysis crept up from his feet to the top of his head. Stanton taught him the trick. If you relax and let go you could play dead convincingly well, and then when your enemy relaxed you went for the killing shot from the back to the groin. All he wanted now was to kill the love he had for Joss. He smirked. Joss was fairing no better. He caught the imperceptible shakiness of her legs as she walked to the door.

John jerked his head back as he heard the door swing open. With a sha-tuck it closed on his heart and his will to get up! So he laid there and listened for the low hum of the elevator. His bed vibrated as the elevator stopped on his floor. Then it hummed to near inaudibility. He imagined the door sliding open and joss stepping out of the elevator. John sat up in his bed, pulled himself up, and padded naked up the bathroom. He held onto the inside edge of the bathroom door, gripping the hinge. His vision obscured by tears. He turned his head and stared at the beige tile work in the shower stall. The "numbers" and a dog was all he had left.

Risking her life, Joss blindly ran through the oncoming traffic. Drivers honked and cursed behind her. She pulled out her keys, fumbled with it until she found her car keys, and then unlocked the door. She climbed in, buckled up, and then turned the ignition. Her heart pounded as she turned the ignition off and gave sway to the tears.


	6. Chapter 6

Harold hobbled up the steps of the library. Bear bounded up beside him. They turned the corner and limped into the main room where his little makeshift office resided. It was Seven in the morning and as was his habit he turned on the computer, pressed a button and up came the image of Carter's desk before eating. He pulled off damp trench coat.

John may have abandoned her but he would not. Getting up from the desk he limped two steps to the tabletop pantry which was no more than a pile of heat and serve foods. He selected the egg, ham, and cheese hot pocket, nuked it to perfection. Steam hollowed up from the wrap. It was to hot to eat just yet so he placed it next to his computer sat down and watched Carter's desk. She moved into view of the camera and sat down at her desk. The precinct amazingly bustled with activity from what he could see. Cops seemed to rarely sleep.

He watched Carter lift a cup. She brought it to her nose then placed the cup down frantically grabbed a file and leaned over covering her face. Something came out of her mouth.

She was sick? Riveted, he leaned into the screen and continued his surveillance of her. She stood up from her desk and Harold reared back in his chair. "Detective Carter?"

Before he could fully process what he saw. He heard John's fast approaching footsteps. Moving quickly he blanked the screen and looked up at John turning from the staircase. His long black coat swung from side to side like a cape. Bear panted excitedly up to John. It was a shame John's apartment building didn't allow pets. It was time to change that.

"Hi Bear," John said, as he patted his furry doppelgänger.

Gray stubble covered the lower half of John's face, and his vibrant blue eyes were sad and dull. His self imposed exile from Detective Carter was taking its toll. John held a white bag in his hand. More danish? John's diet was as impeccable as his.

"John, you look like hell."

"And a good morning to you to, Harold. Any numbers yet?"

One number came just before he left the library last night, but he didn't want to discuss that yet. He needed to help John if he'd let him. "You should talk to Detective Carter."

John faced the numbers board then he lowered his head. "I don't know if Snow gave up, or if he's biding his time, and he isn't discerning. He shook his head. "He threatened her once and he'll do it again. Taylor could get caught in the crossfire."

"Trust me, John, to live without the one you love day in day out isn't right. Its torture!"

"I can't give her the life she deserves, not when I'm a walking dead man."

"Then maybe its time to get _them_ off your back."

John smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "You really want to die, again, Harold?"

"I want you to be… happy."

"You should talk to Grace, too."

"I started this with the machine. I can never go back to Grace, but you, you have a chance to be happy…" He stood and tested the wrap pressing it down. It was cooler and ready to eat. "That concludes my matchmaking duties of the morning. Clean up, we have a hospital to donate money to and a doctor to save."

"Why, aren't I the picture of dapperness?"

It had been two months since she'd last seen John. It had been two months since she'd laughed, enjoyed food, or a simple cup of coffee. She did a lot of crying though, and that she enjoyed. It reminded her that she could still feel. As she read through the larger than life stack of files on her desk she felt the tears well up again. This break up or whatever it was, was taking its toll on her job performance, and outlook on life. Taylor had noticed, too. But she kept a front up. Kids weren't about to know about grown folks business, but it was sweet of him to be concerned. She raised him right, and he was safe! She gulped down her tears and the crazy wave of grief that had welled up unexpectedly.

"Whoo!" she said to herself, two-hand fanning. She looked around the squad room hoping no one had noticed. Joss contemplated her coffee. She lifted her cup of coffee. The aroma made her turn up her nose. Weird! She lived on coffee if nothing else at times. Then her stomach heaved. She bent over, grabbed a file, covered her face with it, and upchucked into the trash can sitting next to her chair. That was the second time since arriving at work.

"Hey Carter, go home." Fusco looked down at her; concern in his brown eyes. "I'll cover for you."

Oh no, her illness was showing. It was just stress and heartache. Did the captain notice, too? "Uh-uh, Fusco, I can handle this."

"No offense Carter, but look at you." He snatched off his glasses. "I could punch, Wonder boy."

_You and me both._ But as thought it she felt that knee-jerk sadness and longing for him. It floored her that Fusco knew what was going on between her and John before she ever had. Fusco was many things but clueless wasn't one of them. "Bad timing for me and our man in a suit. I'll see you later, Fusco," she said, as she picked up her sorry styrofoam cup of coffee.

"Hey, Carter if you need to talk… you know. My shoulder is free."

"For talking or crying?"

He shrugged his mouth lifted in a sheepish grin and pointed to his shoulders. "These shoulders are built for multi-tasking."

His words touched her so much that she felt the stinging in her eyes again. She held Fusco's meaty arm upper arm and gently squeezed, and held in her giggle at watching him turn as red as a tomato. "Thanks, Fusco."

Joss walked out of the Squad room feeling sadness and an annoyance that once again her emotions were getting in the way. The Army taught her to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand. John had broken through her walls, and she'd let him. Now she was reduced to a sobbing mess at any moments notice. Her emotions were so crazy that they upset her stomach-making her queasy. She looked at he coffee cup in her hand then stopped at a stainless steel garbage can and threw it in. Or was it something she'd eaten? She continued her walk to the front door. Not that she'd been paying attention to what she'd eaten. Everything tasted bland to her lately.

She froze on the steps of the precinct. The last time she felt the weird waves of queasiness was when she was-No, no!_ Am I? _Caught up in her suspicions, she ignored the curious looks of her fellow officers as they passed by. There was no way she could be…pregnant? No, it was her grief over she and John breaking up, right? There was only one way to find out for sure.

Holding onto the cold, wet railing, she jogged down the stairs, and ran to her car.

After nervously buying three pregnancy tests she drove home, ran inside her apartment ignoring Taylor, and made a beeline to her bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Joss dropped to the floor and rested her back against the tub. She stared at the pink lines on the three sticks. Fervent knocking brought her back to the present.

"Mom, you okay?" Taylor's voice was muffled and frantic from behind the door.

Joss stared at her robe hanging on a hook on the back of it. In seven months the robe won't close around her belly. Deep in the belly laughter erupted out of her. Her oldest child would have a sibling! _Oh My God! _

"Mom?

The door knob shifted back and forth. She must have scared him something awful, but it was a good thing she had locked the door which he must have realized cause the door knob stilled. She really didn't want to explain the three teat sticks to her sixteen year old son. He would put two and two together and give her the stink eye until his sibling enters the world.

"Taylor, I'm all right. I'll be right out, okay?"

"Mom?"

"Really, Taylor, I'm good."

"Okay."

She heard his sneakers squeak away. Now what? She couldn't deny her joy over finding out she's pregnant, ad at her age! John should be told. Whether he wanted to stick around for fatherhood or not. Protectively she touched her belly. Then she checked her watch. She had to get back to work!


	7. Chapter 7

"You're turning a sickly green. Leave this one alone, Carter."

She would gladly give him the reign on this case except that the clear plastic covered business card he'd pulled from the victim's body had her name on it! Blood was splattered in some places and smeared in others on the card. It tried to stick to the plastic bag and the scent of the life-giving substance seeped through, churning her stomach. Saliva pooled in her mouth. She swallowed it down. After winning her short-lived battle, she flipped over the card and read the numbers written on the back. "66 11th". Someone was giving her a message. Protectively, she touched her stomach.

Half an hour ago, she'd been at the Precinct carting a stack of files the height of a lamp to her desk, now she was at a crime scene hiding her nausea and a possible connection to the victim. She didn't know the victim she was sure, but someone wasted the poor man's life to give her a message.

"As much as I want to, I can't leave this one alone, Fusco. Someone needs to speak with me awful bad."

He angled his head in the direction of the Crime scene technicians. "You might want to get out of here before people start asking questions you can't answer."

"Thanks, Fusco."

After getting back to the Precinct, she cross-checked the numbers on back of the card and found an address to Fujima Techtronics. Well, she had another decision: leave it alone like Fusco suggested, or go investigate. Moving quickly, she opened her desk drawer and pulled out her trusty bullet-proof vest. "We can do this, baby," she soothed while patting her stomach. "One more case then we go on desk duty," she whispered.

Adjusting her bulletproof vest, Joss hurried out of the station. The vest was snug, probably the last time she'd be able to wear one for a while. She jumped in her car and sped Uptown. The drive over there did nothing to calm her nerves, so she relied on her training. She took a deep breath as she parked her car, exited it, and walked towards the tons of people fleeing the building. She spotted a guard, an older looking gentleman with balding salt and pepper curly hair in a black suit and tie.

"Excuse me. What happened here?"

"You got here pretty fast. There were shots fired a few minutes ago."

"Shots fired?" She looked around listening to the guard and watching the people exiting the building then she saw him briskly walking out of the building. Mark Snow!

"Some kind of botched robbery. Guy got inside, had the exits blocked, shots fired, guards down. The ambulance is headed this way.

"Thank you, excuse me."

She ran after his retreating form and followed him around the corner to the back. He opened a beige colored door and walked inside. _Where is this guy going?_ She knew he knew she was following him. She followed the path he took inside. It was semi dark and seemed under construction. A parking garage maybe? Or more offices? Thick cords and wiring hung from the cement ceiling and support beams.

He kept walking. Joss stopped twenty feet behind him and raised her gun.

"Agent Snow! Freeze!"

He raised his arms up. He didn't seem to be armed, but he's C.I.A. He could be carrying heat strapped to his ankle.

"Turn around slowly."

"Theres no signal down here; she can't hear us."

_She?_ "What's going on Mark?"

"I don't know what she has planned, but its something big."

"You killed a man for his I.D. badge to get inside that company, and then you shot a guard. Why?"

Mark unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the panels apart showing a bomb vest wrapped around his torso. _Oh God! Mark._ She lowered her gun slowly. There was no mistaking the fear in his eyes. She could feel the desperation emanating from him.

"I had no choice. She's on a mission with nothing to lose. More people are going to die."

She took two steps forward hoping he could hear her through his fear and acquiesce. "I'll call Bomb Squad. I'll take you in."

"She won't let you."

"Who is _she, _Mark?"

Shots rang out from behind him blowing the cage covered lights. Snow dashed to the right and disappeared. Joss ducked around the nearest corner. Pop, pop, pop! Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she pulled out her mini flashlight, released the safety, and raised her gun. She jumped around the corner again. Bullets chipped the corner wall forcing her back into the corner. Chips of plaster pelted her face missing her eyes. _Back up would have been nice, Carter._

It grew quiet. Slowly she swung around the corner; eyes darting around as she walked forward. She turned around covering her rear. She was alone. Whoever it was, she saw the shooter's silhouette, was female, tall, and she was a damn good shot. Stinging pain bolted up her arm. Wetness grew on her jacket sleeve. The usual metallic smell captured her nose. She pressed the wound on her arm. She had to get out of there and to a hospital.

"Been doing a little work on the side?" He said sarcastically as he turned over the I.D. badge with Snow's face on it. Too many emotions hit him at once: longing, dread and love. Seeing Joss again after so long was a shock to his system. As if he'd been deprived of food for a year and then someone placed a plater of food before him.

But this news, and of course, he'd made it awkward for her to contact him, angered him. Why did she keep her first run in with Snow in the morgue a secret from him?

It was exactly what he didn't want to happen. What he'd hoped they could avoid if they'd stayed away from each other. If he could have stayed away from her. He also had to admit the pride welling inside him. She's a natural detective. Her ability to dismantle a mystery is instinctual. Still the very thing he admired about her tended to blow situations up.

"I'm a Homicide Detective, John. You shouldn't have brought me into this if you didn't want me asking questions."

"Are you sure it was Snow?"

She nodded making her ponytail jig behind her head. "I saw him fleeing the scene of the crime wearing a bomb vest. He seemed desperate like someone was holding him on a string; said to tell you that _she_ was planning something big."

"Who _is_ she?"

"That's what I was hoping you could tell me, John. And if you did know would you even tell me?"

John observed the I.D. badge again and shook his head. Snow. Despite staying away from her she got pulled into a bad situation from his past. He knew on some level that it would be impossible to stay away forever. It happened before and he should have gotten the message then. Then he gazed at the blind covered window. Sunlight striped over Joss's hair, left cheekbone, and table. He hadn't noticed it before but her face was rounder; cheeks pinker if that was possible.

_Stop staring stupid!_ Why was he playing with the I.D. badge? It wouldn't tell him what to say or how to deal with his warring emotions. "You are one helluva Detective, Carter. You already know quite a bit about me, Finch and you know we had people who once cared about us; not anymore. But you have a son you care about, and I care about, too. I think you need to ask yourself how much you want to know. "

She lifted her chin; a tear pooled in her eye. Something more than Joss's need to fulfill her curiosity was at foot. Something _else_ had happened. "I already risked a lot today, John."

She pushed her tea cup away and then grimaced as she tilted her body to the left. She lowered her hand underneath the table and produced a squared piece of paper and held it out to him. Looking at her then at the paper in her hand, he couldn't imagine what she was giving him. He took the paper from her and turned it around. The image on the paper was black and sepia with a kidney bean in the middle. His heart pumped hard vibrating throughout his body. A blob laid dead center in the middle of the bean. Forcing his eyes and brain to work harder together, he peered closely at it. Finally he registered the shape: a head, arms,… and webbed fingers. He couldn't catch his breath.

"Joss?"

"I'm going on desk duty starting tomorrow."

"Your twelve weeks along?" That was their last time together. Protection had been the last thing on their minds Right now he really didn't care. He was going to be a father; something he never ever thought he had a right to ever be. Why was this happening now?

"It's yours."

"I know, honey."

John sat back his heart pumping out of his chest.

"Your arm?"

"Flesh wound, thank God!"

"Okay." She got shot! She's a Homicide Detective, she did two tours of Iraq and Afghanistan, so she was used to the sound and fury of gun shots. Now she's carrying his baby and she got shot! The fear continued to assault him. _One thing at a time, John._ "The baby?"

"The baby is fine."

"You should eat something."

"Judging from the dim lighting and non-existent patronage, I'll pass," she whispered and then picked up her cup. "The tea looks good though."

"Kara Stanton."

He got Joss's attention then. She lowered her cup and leaned forward waiting. Her eyes sparkled despite the dimness in the diner. It was his judgement hour. After pushing her away and her gently pulling him back would she deny him after hearing his story? Should she know everything about him, Stanton and Snow?

"Who is she?"

"She was supposed to have died. I shouldn't have been an ass and assumed."

"Why was she supposed to have died, John?"

"Retirement in the C.I.A. means "kill off". I was given orders to do just that. At the last moment, I changed my mind and got shot for it. The building she was in blew up. I escaped."

That was it. He told her and he waited for the judgement. Instead what he saw in er eyes floored him.

"What John?"

"There's more bad stuff before that."

"Are you looking for me to condemn you, judge you, what? Uh-huh, I don't do that. I've done not so good things while in Iraq, so I'm not pure as driven snow."

It was his turn to cock his head to the side and regard her. "Since I aired my dirty laundry lets hear yours.?"

"Okay, I shot a man during an interrogation that had gone south, and to this day I'm not sure if he was in the wrong place at the wrong time or…" She shrugged sadly. "I'm sure he had a family…" she raised the tea cup to her reddish-brown lips, quietly sipped, then made a face. "My tea is cold."

"I'm sorry, Joss."

"I'm sorry they tried to take your soul."

"They took the parts that count."

"I think those parts are still there, hidden, but there," she said softly, as she covered his hand with hers.

_She didn't judge me?_ _I don't disgust her. _Bewildered he said nothing just felt the good vibes of her caressing the space between his index finger and thumb. They said nothing for a while and nothing needed to be said. They loved each other faults and all and that was it!

After a while Joss's sexy raspy voice broke the silence. "So… Stanton was-is capable of puppeteering Snow?"

"She taught me how to unleash the killer, so she's more than capable."

Through her bangs he caught her right brow arch. "You hated her."

"Hate doesn't come close, Joss." He had to feign tolerating her to keep her from killing him. The memories flooded back of him fucking the maniac until she saw sideways. "I'll look into the situation. In the meantime, you need a safer place to stay."

"My apartment is just fine."

"A safe house for you and Taylor." _And my baby._

"You're not listening, John."

"That's right!" He needed to keep this moving, or she would bury him with no's and why's. He tapped his ear piece. "Finch?"

"I have the perfect place, Mr. Reese. The townhouse is fully furnished and the kitchen is stocked. The windows are triple-paned and bullet proof. There is also a panic room. I'll text you the address and the entrance code."

"Thank you, Finch."

Joss pressed her lips to a thin line and slowly shook her head. He knew that look. She was ready to pounce. Her tongue poked out her right cheek, and she grasped the edge of the table. "I'm capable of protecting myself and Taylor."

"You're pregnant and you got shot!"

She leaned in again. "I was grazed, John!" she punctuated each word with a tap of her pointed fingernail. "And by the way you wanted to stay away for our safety, remember?"

He waited one beat, two beats. "My father was in the military when I was growing up. I didn't get to know him until he retired. That's not the relationship I want with my kid."

Joss's eyes softened. Was she relenting? Finally?! He could barely contain that joy. It was so relentless that he had to cover his mouth and look away at the closed blinds. It may not last long but at least he would be near her and the baby for a while. His baby!

"I've never seen that look before," Joss said, as she gave him a lop-sided grin making her dimples appear. He must have been beaming like an idiot. His phone buzzed. He read the text message on the screen. The townhouse was half and hour away; factoring traffic an hour.

He slid out of the booth and stood next to the table looking down at her. He held out his hand waiting. Joss stared up at him; her huge eyes searched his. She slid to the end of the opening of the booth and placed her hand in his.


	8. Chapter 8

Pain shot up Joss's arm as she tossed and turned in the unfamiliar bed. Being in the new environment coupled with an aching arm was making her night a living hell. On top of that something felt off, unsettling like she was being watched. She turned onto her back and sighed. Something pulled at her attention. When she turned her head she wasn't surprised to make out John's silhouetted by the moon's light. In the dark, John sat in a chair next to the window seat staring right at her.

He was being protective because of the baby. There was nothing else behind it. At least that what she told herself. Having him there sent a small thrill through her nonetheless.

Not wanting to make her pain worse she sat up slowly in the bed. Even that small movement sent fresh sharp pain up her arm to her shoulder. There was no way she could get any sleep tonight. John sat staring anther then he stood up all six foot two inches of him, reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

She squinted shielding her eyes and saw the naked concern etched in his features.

"The baby is fine, John."

"I know, but you aren't." Then he walked out of the bedroom.

Her eyes comfortably took in the lit room. She lowered her arm down and gingerly lifted moved her arm to get a better look at the dressing. Fresh blood dampened the bandage. "Wonderful."

John walked back inside the bedroom with a first aid kit in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He kicked the door closed then sat the kit down on the nights stand. He sat down on the bed. The mattress giving to his lean weight. He was too close too close. Without uttering a single word, John peeled both strips of tape off her arm, crumpled the bloodied bandage.

"Throbbing?"

"Like a jackhammer."

His touch was gentle and sure just like when they'd made love last. He knew the spots that made her tingle, but this was not supposed to be sexy. Cleaning flesh wounds should not make her hot. John took out a white clinical looking tube, twisted the cap off and squeezed cream onto a cotton ball.

"Don't worry its lidioain. It won't harm the baby."

Nodding seemed a helluva lot safer than talking to him.

He deftly wiped the cream onto her arm. She'd always been fascinated by his fingers. They're long, lean but strong like his body.

Soon the throbbing pain faded to a dull manageable ache. She took a deep breath letting the relief take over until John threaded a needle. "John?"

"Your stitches at the bottom reopened."

She nodded feeling the delicate damaged skin rip even further. It was an acute tearing feeling that crept up her arm. "Did you learn first aid at the CIA?"

"Special Forces," he said, as he tied a knot at the end of the thread. "You trust me?"

With my body yeah, my heart? HELL NO!, she wanted to yell. Instead she nodded. She really did trust him straight to her core, but he bruised her heart.

John pushed the needle through her skin. She felt the thinness if the thread, and couldn't help but watch him work. He was careful, efficient and gentle. After every line of stitch he locked eyes with her.

They seemed to stare at each other forever. Neither of the want dot break contact and the knowledge that he still cared secretly thrilled her.

But real life was what she had to deal with.

"I have to tell Taylor tomorrow."

John pulled the thread out then down. "We both will."

"I can handle this myself I am his mom, you know."

"Immaculate conception doesn't happen nowadays. We both should tell him."

"So we're going to have a family meeting now? We're not family, John."

"We're connected." I knew it when I saved Taylor's life. I knew it when I went berserk on the Cap-We're family."

When this was over she and Taylor would go back to the their lives with a little addition, without John. The pain from their last separation almost killed her if not for the little one John had left behind. Her heart wouldn't take another disappointment. "Until your past catches up with you and then it gets hot and you're out of our lives again. You can't do that to us-me… again."

The tension in her room grew to epic proportions. This was it. This was her fork in the road. She had no idea what road John would prompt her to take with him but she as ready to take the road well-traveled. She'd raised Taylor alone. She could do it again with the baby. She hoped though that John would be able and willing to step up.

Stone-faced, John worked on her arm until he said, "You want to know what I see, Joss?"

"What?"

"I see the four of us surrounded by green lush hills on a farm living a quiet, uneventful life."

"From vigilantism to a farmer? Whatever you are smoking must be damned good, John."

He grinned as he patted her newly sewn up arm with a Betadine-loaded cotton ball. "You think I'm crazy."

"No, I- How will all this happen?"

"I could have taken a different path, but I chose this one and it led me here to worrying for your, Taylor and our baby's safety. I have to make this right for all of us."

"That's just it, John! You cut me out of your life to keep me and Taylor safe, but you never asked what I truly wanted."

"Taylor-."

"I know, I know."

"Once all the treated are removed we can have that quiet life in Pulayap-the four of us and Bear."

"You would miss this too much, John."

Rippppppp went the bandage between John's fingers. "Don't tell me what I feel, Joss! I miss having control over my life badly."

"But the people you help-"

"I still want to know what its like to wake up and do ordinary things-live a boring life," he interrupted. "The question is do you?"

She looked own at her bump. "I've put Taylor through a lot over the years. I don't want to see fear in this one's eyes when I walk out the door."

John taped gauze to her arm then he untwisted the bottle of Ibuprofen and shook out two pills. He handed them out to her. His bottom lip tented up in a challenge and his left brow arched. She didn't want to challenge him. It was nice that he was taking care of her at one in the morning.

The corner of John's mouth lifted in a boyish grin. This was the light-hearted John she was fascinated with. He'd come a long way from when they first worked together. Grim didn't begin to cover what he'd been like.

"What?"

He lifted her covers and brought them up to over her shoulders. Her signal to shimmy down. "This kid is going to be a badass."

"Like his father."

"Like his mother," he said tucking her in.

She had to smile now. "A farm, huh?"

"Sleep on it. I'll be right here."

"Do you ever sleep, John?"

John stood up from the bed, and then dropped to the floor in plank position. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself down and up. His arm muscles deliciously flexed with the exertion. If she didn't feel like a slapped rag maybe…. Oh hell she'd probably vomit on his face. Morning sickness was an unrepentant cock blocker!

"Crusaders don't sleep."

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes, Taylor I'm pregnant."

"And its-"

"Its… mine and John's."

Their rubenesque t-shirt and jeans clad waitress butted in holding a steaming coffee pot and cup with a teabag tag hanging over the rim. "Excuse me. Here is your coffee and tea."

"Thank you."

The diner was hopping this morning. It had been the first time they'd been at Lyric during the day. It felt daring. Hiding in plain sight would be get significantly harder with Joss pregnant, but they did difficult very well.

The waitress poured his coffee first. Not that he would drink coffee. Old habits died hard.

"So are you all ready to order?" the waitress asked.

Joss and Taylor placed their orders to the waitress and then it was his turn. He ordered the usual; cheese danish.

Taylor looked from his mother to him. He felt for the kid. Life was normal (for a detective's kid) then all of sudden he was kidnapped and then rescued. Now he's been whisked away to a safe house for his and his mother's protection. School is out of the question until Stanton has been contained, and add a surprise sibling on the way. They were making his life difficult.

"Use protection much?" Taylor smirked.

"Watch it young man," she said, pointing at her son.

Taylor shrugged his shoulders. "You always tell me to keep it zipped up."

Joss leaned forward. Her snarky teen shield was well used and John knew without a doubt what she was about to say. "And you still better keep it zipped, locked, out of sight!"

He felt Carter's deep sigh reverberate through him. It was do as I say not what I do situation, and it couldn't be cleaned up. "Look, I know this looks bad Taylor, but-"

"We're a family now," he cut in covering her bump. "The four of us and I'm not going anywhere."

John met Taylor's wary yet earnest eyes.

"So… when is the wedding?"

Joss scratched her cheek. He knew that trait very well. "Uhm, Taylor-

"We're working out the details, Taylor," John finished for her.

Joss whipped her head around. Her eyes wide. He bet she had no idea what he'd been thinking the past couple of days. It was something they needed to work on together. If she would just let-go and believe.

"My mom deserves to be happy."

"Yes, she does and I won't stop until she is."

John watched Taylor's face. He had the best poker face yet. Darren had nothing on him. Most of all he found he didn't want to let Taylor down. He hadn't had a father figure in a long time. He wanted to step into that role. He had to. He couldn't be a father to the little one and leave Taylor out. If Taylor needed him he'd do his best to be there.

Taylor's face split into a smile. "Badass is going to be my step-father?" He covered his mouth with the side of his fist and moved his shoulders in a booth dance. "Ho, ho!"

Joss rubbed her forehead; a relieved smile broke on her face. Feeling the tension ease in his shoulders he sat back against the booth back cushion. At least this part of whatever this was, was dealt with happily.

He reached for Joss's hand and squeezed as he whispered, "Joss, it will be okay I promise."

"Yeah."

"Hey, trust me." He looked up and spotted the waitress carrying their food on a large metal platter. "Here comes breakfast."

At that moment, Finch pinged him. "Start without me. I'll be right back." John slid out of the both and walked out of the diner. He turned the corner standing right in front of the window where Joss and Taylor had a full view of him.

He touched his ear mic. "Finch?"

He turned to look at Joss's concerned face. He smiled back at her sending reassurance.

"We have our new number. Its our Mark Snow."

"You were right, Finch."

"About what?"

"Its time to get the alphabets off my back."


End file.
